


Cloak and Watcher

by thosepeanutbuttervibes



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, spy and scout arent related in this shush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 06:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosepeanutbuttervibes/pseuds/thosepeanutbuttervibes
Summary: AKA Ms. Pauling and Scout get it on while Spy watches like the absolute madman that he is.





	Cloak and Watcher

**Author's Note:**

> i like smut, you like smut, so buckle up and get ready to do some SINNING  
> l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶s̶u̶b̶s̶c̶r̶i̶b̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶

       He waits there, leaning against the cold wooden wall as everyone else scrambles to find their crate. _Let the dogs fight for their bones,_ he thinks. Shouts of distrust and excitement swim around his ears. One Scout and Pyro in particular are having a hissy fit over whose name is on the crate they both have their claws dug into. There’s also a Medic and Soldier sitting on the snowy grass together, admiring and complimenting each other on their new apparels.  

 

       Spy doesn’t like this time of the week for the most part. Is it really worth being this close to his teammates when their heads are buzzing with dopamine just to get another knife, or gun, or hat? Really, he’s been working under Ms. Pauling (The Administrator, actually, but Ms. Pauling is her voice and right hand for the most part) for a year now. He’s run out of drops to be surprised by.

       

       Finally, everything settles down. His teammates all agree to go back inside; today is such a chilly day after all. Some of them (the ones he can tolerate) smile to him on their way through the door. He replies with a nod.

 

        One crate lays left on the two-inch bed of snow. His.

 

        _Is there really a point to opening it?_ He ponders as he approaches it. _Hale might as well do us both a favor and stop sending me these_ , as he undoes the latch. _Or perhaps not,_ as his eyes land on the blurry object swaddled in bubble wrap. He steals a glance at the top of the lid; FRAGILE is printed in the corner.

 

       He can’t help but raise a brow.

 

       Delicately, he begins peeling away the bubble wrap with the tips of his gloved fingers. They’re starting to get numb, but it’ll be fine. This shouldn’t take long anyway.

 

       ...

 

       It’s a Cloak and Dagger. Faded yellow, with a small screen, held together by a brown strap.

 

       A shit-eating grin worms its way onto Spy’s normally controlled face. He can already feel his heart becoming a steady drum-beat, and his throat becoming drier by the second. His eyes dilate like an animal. Only one thought fills his mind.

 

        _Finally._

 

       He puts on the watch immediately and carefully, before pulling his sleeve over it. It’s best his team not even _think_ of what he’s about to do. Putting on his poker face isn’t hard anyway. Then he picks up the crate to drop it off at the Engineers’ lab. They always insist they can use the scraps.

 

       Even as lust starts to tug his mind away from self-control, he holds on, and his teammates don’t suspect a thing.

 

       ...

 

       The couple holds each other’s hands as they pad through the snow. _How cute._

 

       These two have been together for a while. Oh, how Spy dreaded it when he found out Miss Pauling’s Bostonian boyfriend was his teammate (or as Scout calls it, ‘pally’). Spy had found himself reading in his smoking room more than ever, and even through several walls, he wasn’t able to get that stupid Boston voice out of his head.

 

       Yes, Scout still never shuts up about it- how he’s got himself a girlie. Never. He always drones on and on about how lucky he is. Always going on about how he counted on immediate rejection when his ‘prom date’ confession went traumatically sour, how it slowly blossomed into something sweeter. Scout would tell this story to every one of his teammates ( _pallies_ ), whether or not they listened.

 

       Mentally, Spy’s been keeping a list. Scout’s babbled on about his girlie more than Spy’s liked about nine times, so that makes at least nine stab wounds if either of them get balanced to Blu.

 

        But that doesn’t matter now. They have what he wants. They have what he needs, and they _will_ give it to him.

 

        They tend to go for walks on nice days like this. Alone, together. All alone, never to be seen by anyone, _until the next morning._

 

It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s going on with them, but it _does_ take a little effort to see it happen.

 

       He’s not close enough though. Going quick and swift, he steps forward, his feet perfectly fitting into the impressions Scout left in the snow. He blinks against the bite of the cold air.  The voices of the couple get more and more clear.

 

       “Y’know,” Scout says highly, with his head tilted to the side (and his eyes closed, Spy just _knows_ ). “The only thing stopping me from slamming you up against one of these buildings and fucking you senseless is hypothermia.”

 

       Ms. Pauling huffs and stops in her tracks. With their hands still connected, Scout get tugged off balanced before he thinks to stop too. Perfect timing. Spy’s cloak needs to recharge anyway.

 

        “God, Scout. We’ve been away from the base for five minutes. You really couldn’t hold back for long, could you?”

 

        He flashes a grin at her ( _overly cocky,_ Spy bets). She tilts her head down and tucks a loose lock of black hair behind her ear. Spy just _knows_ she’s blushing and hoping that Scout doesn’t bring it up.

 

       “Hey, I can’t help it that my girlfriend is amazingly tempting.” He shrugs. “Not to mention, sexy as hell.”

 

       “Charming,” she notes dully, but Spy can still hear the smile in her voice. She seems to be squeezing harder on his hand.

 

       “Really though,” he starts, looking her in the eyes and speaking in a soft tone. He would see Spy right now without the watch, but for now he remains in the unknown and continues speaking in that sweet voice. “You know I still think you’re cute- adorable, actually- and so, so, _so_ smart. And- and everyday I think I’m very lucky that you chose me.”

 

       Now it’s her who’s tilting her head. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned.”

 

       She lets go of his hand for a moment, only to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. As if it’s a practiced motion (it is), his own hands find their way to her hips.

 

       Spy counts the seconds. His feet carry him forward through the footprints Scout unknowingly left for him. The couple stays in his peripheral vision as a blur of purple and red.

 

       Seven seconds in total, before she pulls away to press her lips against Scout’s ear. Curiosity, shock, and deviousness- in that order- appear on Scout’s face. He even bites his bottom lip.

 

       The sensation of tightness is already starting to invade Spy’s dress pants. If it weren’t for the motion-sensitivity of his watch, he would be palming himself through the fabric already.

 

       For now, he must stay still. When they start moving, so will he.

 

       Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long, thanks to Scout’s impatience. Even from five meters away, Spy can see the lust in his eyes. He can almost feel it- so strongly as if he could bathe in it- as he grabs Miss Pauling by the hand again, and starts leading her away. They’re heading even further from the base.

 

       Managing his cloak is suddenly harder with the pace these two are picking. Subconsciously, Spy decides that at this stage they won’t notice if there’s another pair of footprints beside theirs. They won’t notice if he uncloaks to dip around corners and hide.

 

       ...

 

       It’s obvious this is no new activity for them. They’re both already nude. Scout lays down on his back, dead center of the bed. He lets his limbs spread out, reaching for the corner bars of the head and footboard. Cat-like, Ms. Pauling crawls over top of him, on all fours. She goes ahead and secures each of his limbs. First go the hands.

 

        Whether she intends it or not, her tits dangle in front of his face. She rubs her thighs together at the obvious attention she gets from Scout’s eyes.

 

       She even makes a show of arching her back when moving over to the spot between his spread legs. As she handcuffs his feet down, she ends up showing off her juicy pussy and all the goods. Helpless, Scout bites his bottom lip just a little. It’s easy to see the internal struggle he’s having as his muscles tense up.

 

       Still between his legs, she pivots to face her lover. She goes to sit on her heels, knowingly keeping her thighs parted just a little. Raising her arms up and showing off her tits nicely, she pulls out the bobby pins and hair tie from her hair. It falls freely past her collarbone in beautiful black waves.

 

       Scout’s face is flushed. The smell of sweat and sweet lust already wafts through the air.

 

       Spy carefully undoes his fly. He tugs the waistband of his underwear down just enough to let his cock spring out freely. His gloved hand flies to his mouth to stifle the sigh that almost slips out. His eyes flicker to the two in front of him.

 

       No signs that they’ve noticed. Relief washes over Spy, and he starts to peel off the gloves from his hands. The relief fights for dominance with the building pressure in his groin. It beckons for him to give it attention, twitching ever so slightly. For now, all he can do is stroke it at a snail’s pace, lest his watch run out of juice.

 

       “Oh God,” Scout murmurs. “You look so amazing like this.”

 

       Miss Pauling’s eyes go lidded and her smile grows wide in response. All innocence is gone from her expression. “It’s all for you,” she says. Her voice is irresistibly melodic.

 

       She drags her fingers up his leg, from his ankles, up, up, and up along the inside of his leg. And when she gets to his thigh, she goes even slower.

 

       Scout shifts nervously, tugging at his restraints. Soft, low laughter sounds out from above him.

 

  Her left hand drifts back to her hip. The other continues making its way up to Scout’s throbbing length.

 

       He sucks in a breath as her fingertips finally make contact with his sensitive skin. Careful not to touch him with any other part of her hand, she drags those fingertips up and down his cock. All the while, she looks him in the eyes with dominance shining through.

 

       It’s easy for Spy to tell that Scout is resisting the urge to buck into her hand. He moans, “Please…. Mistress, please give me more.”

 

       She cocks her head to the side. “I’ve barely started, you impatient little slave. Wait.”

 

       Scout lets out a mix between a frustrated groan and moan. His back arches, and his hands blindly grip for the bars of the bed.

 

       The bed shifts and she sinks backwards, sliding back until her knees are off the edge. Without letting go of Scout’s cock, she brings her face closer to his groin. His eyes look into hers with a desperate plea for _something_. So helpless.

 

       “Fuuuck, Mistress…”

 

       Her out-stuck tongue finds its ways to his balls. For a few moments, she relishes the helpless feeling radiating off Scout. Then she starts to suckle on his balls, and her hand resumes its feather-light motions.

 

       It’s such a tiny droplet of pleasure. Too little.

 

       The handcuffs jingle against the metal posts in Scout’s frustration. He looks to the sky and purses his lips together. A worthless attempt to suppress the delicious sounds threatening to pour out of his mouth. A worthless attempt to keep Mistress from hearing the things she wants. _What she wants, she gets._

 

       He yelps in pleasure when her whole hand clamps around his cock. His lady’s hand… it sends sweet tingles up his spine and directly into his brain. Its strokes are firm and speedy, and the way his Mistress stares into his eyes keeps those moans coming out.

 

       Her mouth is so hot and wet, and God, does she know how to use that tongue of hers.

 

       The little slave can’t help himself. Who knew that a few days of her working at the other bases could leave him so sensitive? Those poor legs of his are rigid, so rigid from holding back. Ms. Pauling lays a hand on his hip in warning.

 

       Going to kick it up a notch, her tongue travels up his shaft. As it gets closer and closer to his head, anticipation builds in Scout’s stomach. He finds himself holding his breath in, and helpless to look away.

 

       She kisses the tip. The pleasure spirals upwards. Her mouth delves over top of his length then, and the wave comes crashing down.

 

       A small gasp sounds from in front of her. She steals a glance upward to see her lover biting his bottom lip and clenching his eyes shut. A red flush creeps through his skin.

 

       She takes more of him into her hot, wet mouth, firmly stroking what she can’t fit in, and those bright blue eyes in front of her snap open. Scout’s hips below her threaten to buck upwards, and she presses down harder as a second warning. He’s sweating and shaking.

 

       For a moment, her slave stumbles over his words. So lost in the pleasure, his eyes cross just a little. Sadly, his precious face stays like that for just a moment. He manages to look his Mistress in the eyes and gather his voice, for once.

 

        “Oh God, Mistress. You’re sucking me off so good, please don’t stop, it feels too good!” His voice turns more into a whine the more he talks. He throws his head back against the pillow, a moaning mess. “Please please please keep _going_.”

 

       Then he makes his big mistake.

 

       Too lost, his hips jerk upward, and it takes his Mistress by surprise. Her eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing evilly. With her cheeks still hollowed, she slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth. A string of saliva dangles from his head to her plump lips, and she makes a show of looking at it with sudden innocence.

 

       But then the innocence is gone, and she glares at him with the face of a succubus, as if there is a dark aura surrounding her. She wipes away the string. “Scout… you’ve been bad.”

 

       “Oh, have I?” he says with a cocked eyebrow, despite the worn-out expression on his face.

 

       “Oh, yes you have. You tried to make yourself feel better than I was allowing.” Moving like a predator, she crawls over him until she’s only a few inches from his face.

 

       “I’m the one in control here, and you know this, my precious slave. And you broke that rule of ours.” Her lips curl in a smile as she tenderly holds his face. “For that, you need to be punished.”

 

       She presses a kiss to his lips before pulling away and swooping her legs over off the bed. Scout struggles to see her over his bound arm, but he can see the top of her black hair. She’s squatting, digging through the bedside table.

 

       Scout lets out a tired sigh and he turns his head to look back at the ceiling. God, he didn’t realize how loud his heart was and still is beating. Now he can feel all the sweat sticking to his skin, and how he’s gasping for breath.

 

       He takes this moment of rest with great thankfulness.

 

       Then Ms. Pauling crawls back onto the bed and over top of Scout. Something black is folded and scrunched inside her fist. With both her hands, she stretches it out- it’s a long piece of fabric.

 

       With some cooperation, she places the fabric underneath Scout’s head. Then she pulls the ends up over his face, and it perfectly covers his eyes. No light slips through.

 

       “Now you don’t get the pleasure of seeing your Mistress.”

 

       Scout hums. “Oh I’m _so sorry_ , Mistress. I think I really do need to be punished.”

 

       Ms. Pauling clicks her tongue. Her slave always tries to be so confident. So brave.

 

        _She will reduce him to nothing but a true slave, inside and out._

 

_Eventually._

 

       She leans down to kiss him again. Gently, she cups his face with her hands. It’s a passionate kiss, with their tongues rolling and Scout blindly leaning upwards into her mouth. Her delicate hands move downwards, caressing him all over, sending pleasurable sparks throughout his body. Collarbone, chest, stomach, they all feel alight with fire.

 

       And when she pulls away, he’s left panting for breath.

 

       The moment of tenderness is over.

 

       She moves back from her all-fours position to kneeling directly over her lover and his little _friend_. Her left hand finds its way to her hip, and she trails the fingertips of her right hand down across hips, where it’s most sensitive, getting closer and closer to Scout’s ready cock. It twitches ever so slightly.

 

       The tips of her fingers slide up the curve of the base, and it feels like it takes forever for them to reach the tip. When she finally does, she holds his cock upright, and lines it up with her wet pussy. Anticipation grows within her, and she bites her lip.

 

        All the while Scout’s lips are pursed again. Again, trying to hold back.

 

       “Oh, you’re not getting away with that again,” she growls and sinks down onto his cock. Pain and pleasure ripple through her. In front of her, Scout lets out a gasp and his back arches. Ms. Pauling keeps sinking downwards, taking more of his considerable length in until it’s all stuffed inside her.

 

       “Ohhh, _fuuuuck_ , Mistresss.” Even with this slow pace, Scout’s whining away and tugging at the handcuffs again.

 

       She places a hand on his chest, and lifts up her hips again, feeling her walls close up as her slave’s cock slowly pulls out of her. Seven inches slide out of her, until the tip is just barely touching her soft, damp folds. She sucks in a breath as she takes it back inside her, agonizingly slow, and meanwhile Scout lets out a long moan.

 

       “How’s it feel, slave?”

 

       “Amazing,” he pants, his back arching, and his hands holding onto the bars again.

 

       “Good.” She smirks, continuing her slow pace. “Now who’s making you feel like this?”

 

       “You are!” he almost shouts. “You, my Mistress….”

 

       And that sends a wave of pleasure through her. Momentarily her eyes roll back into her head, but she has to keep her control. “I’m glad my slave knows his place now.”

 

       Scout responds quietly, “Yesss, I do…”

 

       “Good.”

 

       The pain and discomfort is entirely out of the picture now for Pauling. She pauses. Scout’s dick only has a few inches inside her. Something like anticipation pools in her stomach as she readjusts her position slightly. With newfound energy, she brings her hips down with more force, getting into a rhythm faster than before, but far from her fastest.

 

       “ _Yes! Oh God, Mistress!”_ His sounds are delightful to her ears. She can’t help but smile sweetly.

 

       Scout’s head feels like it’s spinning. Pleasure is fogging up his mind, and he can’t stop from rolling his eyes and dropping his mouth open. Every muscle feels tense and loose at the same time. Fire, electricity, is that what’s burning beneath his skin?

 

       He keeps his hands clasped around the cool metal bars, for a reality anchor if anything.

 

       Something is rising within him. Like waves rising up against a dam. After so long of build-up, it’s finally threatening to come crashing down.

 

       “F-fuck, Mistress I-” it’s about to spill over. “I’m gonna-”

 

       Pauling pulls her hips off Scout immediately, letting his aching cock fall back against his stomach, still throbbing and everything. Her smile seems bittersweet now, and she leans forward to lay down against Scout’s side. One leg lays over his torso, just a few inches away from his cock.

 

       She kisses the tender flesh of his neck. Slowly, seductively. He tugs and yanks at his handcuffs with desperation.

 

       He’s panting now. Half frustrated and half exhausted. “No. No, nononono- please, Mistress, _nooo…”_ The words tumble out in a stream. “Please, I- oh Mistress, I’m close, please, oh fuck, I’m _so close, please, just a little more_...”

 

       She giggles against the crook of his neck, running a delicate finger across his collarbone. It’s warm, and rising up and down with the heaving of his breaths.

 

       “Please let me cum, Mistress, _pleasepleaseplease_ , I just needed a bit more, oh _God_ …”

 

       The high moans are like music to her ears, and without even thinking about it, her hand finds its way between her legs. With the slickness, her hand glides easily over her clit.

       

  “Mmm, I love hearing you whine like this, slave,” she says as her legs start to tremble. Her hand’s found her sweet spot and she makes sure to hit it with each flick of her wrist. “Tell me just how badly you want it.”

 

       “Oh _fuuck_ , Mistress, you already know how badly I want it.”

 

       She smirks. “Tell me anyway.”

 

       “It… It feels too good, Mistress. I need this desperately, please- I just- oh please, even if you suck it just a little, or rub it just a little, I need to cum so badly… Please, my dick is aching so _badly_ , Mistress…”

 

       Her legs won’t stop trembling, and even Scout can feel it against his skin. Now _she_ can feel the wave rising over the walls. Her eyes roll back, and her mouth parts a little. Such a shame her slave can’t see what he’s doing to her.

 

       “I know only you can satisfy me, Mistress…”

 

       She fights to keep her voice under control as her hand goes to town on her clit. “Fuck. Slave, I’m gonna cum. You hear that? You’re gonna make me _cum._ ”

 

       “Ohh yessss, please, cum all over me, Mistress.”

 

       The wave drips over. First just a few drops, until it all spills. Her eyes roll up into her head and ecstacy pours over her. The moans get caught up in her throat, but her breath comes out hot against Scout’s neck.

 

        Even he can feel her spasming against his body. She’s so rigid against him, and sweaty too. God, he knows that she’s in heaven right now, and that she’s incapable of speaking right now- the words have been ripped from her throat, replaced with a silence chock-full of lustful energy.

 

       He wants nothing more than to magically escape the handcuffs, shove her down against the bed, and fuck her senseless through her high, have her cum all over his cock and make her unable to speak coherently.

 

       But his Mistress’ breathing becomes less erratic, and her body slowly relaxes. Her head goes to rest against his shoulder.

 

       The silence, aside from their panting, pushes the lust from Scout’s mind. His cock is still hard, miraculously.

 

       It’s only the calm before the storm.

 

       Faster than he realizes it, she’s back on him again, holding his cock up and shoving it inside herself. “It’s not over yet,” she says, clearly still tired.

 

       Pleasure washes over Scout. His aching cock is finally getting the attention it’s been so desperately needing. His body is rigid again, and he throws his head backwards.

 

       Their hips smack together, making a filthy sound with every downward thrust she makes. Squeaks come from the bed as she fucks the daylights out of him, like a damn animal.

 

        If only he could thrust upward. She’s going too fast for him to do anything but feel; his mind is blown and he’s paralyzed with this amazing feeling.

 

       “Mm, I can tell you’re _really_ enjoying this, my l- my slave.”

 

       His eyes roll back under the blindfold in response and he mouths out a long _yessssss…_ and the handcuffs securing his hands and feet rattle against the bars. The sound is loud, but entrapped in their lustful little world. Sweat sticks between their skin.

 

       “Oh _God_ , I can’t even see your eyes, but you look amazing. Keep making those sweet sounds… Oh yes, _you’re such a good slave_ ….”

 

       Her own pleasure is driving her up the wall, with her sensitive nerves tingling with overstimulation. It feels too good. Addictive.

 

       “M-Mistress,” Scout pants. “I’m close a-again. Please… please let me cum, Mistress. Ah! Fuck, it feels too good, please tell me you’ll let me cum this time.”

 

       She can see his chest becoming speckled with redness. He’s breathing erratically, his muscles tensing and untensing. His mouth is stuck parted slightly, and there’s a string of saliva between his teeth. He’s definitely close.

 

       “You deserve a _nice reward_ ,” she says as she slows her pace a tad, only to let Scout’s dick move as deep as it can go into her pussy. Every throbbing inch of it is getting squeezed by her tight walls. “Go on and cum, slave. Cum.”

 

       He bites his lip, and his Mistress can feel his legs and hips harden as she pushes him over the edge. His fists are clenched too, and no doubt his toes are curled. Silent, he’s on cloud nine. This intoxicating sensation surrounds him and fills him, over every inch of his skin and in his mouth.

 

       Seeing this, something like sweet fire- adrenaline?-  pools in Ms. Pauling’s stomach. It collides with the exhaustion, the bone-deep tiredness in her from all this energy spent rocking their bodies. She slows, before stopping. Now she feels like she might just collapse. Her limbs feel like jelly.

 

       As quick as those feelings came for the both of them, they vanish. For Scout, this brings relief. He heaves in breaths of air. His molecules settle back into place, nestling him deeper into the spot on the mattress. Heh, no doubt it’s gotten a nice coating of sweat.

 

       Ms. Pauling, aching, lifts herself off her boyfriend’s shrinking cock and falls against his side again. Thick cum leaks out of her still pulsating pussy. They’re both sweaty and sticky, and if they weren’t still getting those floaty feelings, they might have cared.

 

       Regaining a bit of energy, Pauling cups the far side of Scout’s face and plants a kiss on his cheek before settling back down.

 

       She thinks in the silence for a moment, staring at her boyfriend’s face. “Close your eyes.”

 

       Suddenly the blindfold is pulled off of Scout. His vision goes from black to bright red as the light hits his lids. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and turns his head to look at his lady. “My Mistress….”

 

       She smiles. It’s so angelic.

 

       “Also,” he adds, “we forgot to put a towel over the bed before we started.”

 

       She laughs into the crook of his neck. “God, Scout, you’re right. I think-” she looks him in the eyes again, “-it might just be a little too late now though.”

 

       Again with that cocky grin, he looks to the side. “Just maybe. I think it might be a little too late too. There’s, uh, definitely no going back now.”

 

       They gaze into each other’s eyes again. _Cute._

 

       “Would you mind, uh,” Scout breaks the silence, “untying me?”

 

       “Oh!” She looks surprised. Ms. Pauling genuinely forgot, it seems. “Right, right,” she says as she brings herself to a sitting position again and her hand feels over the nightstand for the key. “I can’t believe it; I actually forgot.”

 

       “Hey, it’s no big deal, Ms. Pauling. You remembered.”

 

       She smiles down at him and his caring expression as she unlocks the last of the handcuffs. “There, you’re free to go.”

 

       He laughs again. “Thank you, darling.”

 

  She stands and puts her hands on her hips. If she weren’t so short she might actually look stern. “Now, before I forget this too, let’s go clean up.”

 

       Instantly Scout puts on his whiny voice. “Aw, c’mon! I’m so tired. Do we have to?”

 

       “Yes, Scout, we _have_ to.” She grabs a hold of his arm and yanks him out of the bed. Despite him cooperating to stand up, he still whines in protest.

 

       She wraps her hands around his neck, lovingly. “You wanna go get the towels so we can have a hot shower?”

 

       His hands close around her arms, pushing warmth into her skin. “I’d love to.” His hands slide up her arms, past her shoulders, to cup her face as he leans to kiss her. “And I love _you_ too.”

       

       They smile, their faces inches away from each other’s. “I love you just as much,” she says with a smile on her lips. “Now go get those towels, and get me one too so I can clean up some of the sweat and semen from our poor bed.” Her arms slide away, and one goes to playfully push at his chest.

 

       “You know, that isn’t our only bed!” he calls, getting further away as he shuffles to the bathroom. “There’s my bed down at the base. Also, didn’t you say that you got of lot of places like this made near, like, all the bases?”

 

       “Not all of them!” she shouts back. “Just a few, and I’m doing everything I can in my power to keep you stationed at any of those bases, like this one.”

 

       “Riiight!” he says, surprisingly not sarcastically, and he walks back to Ms. Pauling to hand her a small towel. “I forgot that was why I’ve been here for so long.” He shrugs. “Not that I’m complaining.”

 

       She gets to work. “Thanks.” She leans over the bed, letting the towel absorb what white liquids it can. “And y’know, we don’t fuck in your bed down at the base because of the thin walls. Not to mention you probably have some... crafty teammates.”

 

       Their unseen watcher smirks at that last note.

 

       “Yeah, that’s fair,” Scout calls from the bathroom. “Everything’s all set up, by the way. Care to join me in the shower, darling? I’ll be so lonely without you.”

 

       A huff escapes her as she smiles with her eyes closed. “You don’t have to seduce me to make me join you. I wouldn’t pass up the chance.”

 

       She shakes her head, her black hair falling over her shoulder. There’s a happy, satisfied look on her face as she pads over to the bathroom before closing the door behind her, and locking it with a **_click_ ** _._

 

…

 

        They’re finally out of the way. Spy uncloaks himself. His cock is almost painfully hard, and he would rather not be translucent with the cloak meter constantly at its last bar.

 

        After all, he can’t help himself to be still.

 

        His wrist gets to work.

 

        Such as shame there’s a time limit. He can’t stay here forever. So his hand goes as fast as it can, and it does take him very long to cum.

 

        But _ohGod_ , does it feel _fuckingamazing_ when he finally releases. No magazine can compare to this, what he’s seen unfold.

 

        Yet there’s still no time to dilly-dally. He wipes himself with the handkerchief he brought along, before putting away his satisfied dick, and hurrying (quietly) out the door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ^ what i aspire to do to my significant other


End file.
